Destiny: Child of the Sky by Elizabeth Haydon

Author:Elizabeth Haydon [Haydon, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, General, Epic, Fantasy Fiction, Rhapsody (Fictitious Character: Haydon), Achmed (Fictitious Character: Haydon), Achmed (Fictitious Character : Haydon), Rhapsody (Fictitious Character : Haydon), Grunthor (Fictitious Character: Haydon), Grunthor (Fictitious Character : Haydon)
ISBN: 9780812570830
Google: wVN_6_wcVl0C
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2001-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

49

Seeing the landmarks on the Cymrian Trail with Llauron was like seeing them for the first time. That they were on horseback this time was part of the difference; Llauron had loaned her a dappled gray gelding, keeping his prized white Madarian for himself. Rhapsody had smiled when she saw the elderly man mount; Anwyn’s sons appreciated fine horseflesh. Anborn’s black charger was among the most beautiful she had ever seen. Llauron’s steed was almost as impressive.

They had gone first to check on the House of Remembrance, finding it in ruins, nothing but the shell of the frame remaining. Rhapsody’s heart had constricted when she saw it. She thought of the marvelous library, and the significance of the outpost historically, that had caused her to take the time to extinguish the fire that had ignited in battle when they first visited the House. The raging fireball that had destroyed the demon-vine which had invaded Ylorc in search of the Earthchild had destroyed the House of Remembrance as well. At least the grisly scene of sacrificial horror had been purged, leaving nothing but blackened timber and ash.

She looked with concern at Llauron, whose family heritage had been so much a part of the outpost, but the old gentleman seemed quite calm. He crouched down and ran a hand through a nearby pile of gray cinders and black ash which contained the scorched remnants of what had once been leather book bindings, sifting the debris through his fingers. After a moment’s reflection he looked up at her and smiled slightly.

“Pity, isn’t it? It was once such a marvelous museum.” Llauron tossed the ashes back to the ground and stood, wiping his hands on his gray robes. “Ah, well, now that the next Cymrian Age is in the offing, we will need to build new outposts, new museums, won’t we, my dear?”

Rhapsody smiled at him. “I suppose.”

Llauron’s face grew serious as they traversed the charred cobblestones lining the remains of the courtyard to its center, where the tall sapling of Sagia, the Oak of Deep Roots on Serendair, still grew, healthy and vibrant among the destruction. “You know, Rhapsody, it is within your grasp to leave this land as great a bequest as ever has been given it. That’s a tremendous opportunity for a peasant of common birth; it is the chance to affect history as none but the Lords of the Cymrians themselves did.”

Rhapsody swallowed the sarcastic comment that rose to her lips. “And what opportunity would that be, Llauron?”

The ever-present twinkle in Llauron’s blue eyes disappeared. “Protect the tree.”

Rhapsody glanced at the young Sagian oak, remembering how diseased and dead it looked when she had first beheld it so long ago. Llauron himself had given her the salve which she had used to bring about its healing, anointing its polluted roots and protecting it with a song of healing. Its gleaming branches now towered above her head, white wooden arms outstretched to the clear winter sky, laden with bright blossoms. She

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